30, the border age, the age of border. Life starts at 30. Real life. New perspectives open, both in emotional and external life. Somehow, the deeper I go inside myself, the larger I see around. Psychological issues. Killing inner parasites, vampires, agressors. Meditation. Layers of inner worlds. Imagination. Real landscapes of sorrow and loss, that, chewed upon, wear out their bitter taste and turn into something qualitatively different. Quiet voices inside me. The tighter you close me, the more room I get. Sensitivity. New sources of information. New resources of energy, both inside and outside.